09.05.03 - 5:40 p.m.

Wow. I am filled with such seething hatred on a daily basis lately, and I have to wonder: Where is this coming from?

Not to get all Carrie Bradshaw on your asses. But Linda tells me I'm too young to be bitter, and yet I sit here as the words of my coworkers grate into my brain like nails across a chalkboard, and it's all I can do to bite my tongue and not yell, "Shut up, you fucking moron!" or something equally erudite, because we all know that rage brings out the poet in everyone, and I wonder when I got so angry.

I'm sure if I looked into the diary archives I'd figure it out. But in the real world I'm a funny person. I crack jokes, make witty commentary, act like a well-adjusted human around the people I like. At work? I'm a blistering ball of scorn. I have a Bad Attitude. And I'm not sure if it's apparent to everyone, or if it just festers inside of me alone. I know a lot of others here are miserable.

Amy had an interview at Dan's magazine this morning. For a job I know I could half-do. Yet I can't work at the same magazine as him, not in the same department, and so I'm happy yet jealous as all hell. She'd be perfect there.